The Book
by jeeno2
Summary: Post-MJ, pre-epilogue. Peeta works on a painting of his brothers for the memory book.


_a/n Written in response to two "promptsinpanem" tumblr prompts inviting submissions about the Mellark Brothers and about the school wrestling championship. And I apologize if any of you got two separate notifications for this little story. FFn was acting up on me._

* * *

He's at his easel when she returns from hunting.

They've been working on the book together for a month now. Not every day – neither of them thinks they'd be able to manage that. But it's helping, this joint process of remembering what they've lost, even if they can only bear it in fits and starts.

Katniss sets her game bag down in the kitchen and crosses over to where Peeta stands, shoulders tensed, jaw clenched tight, fist wrapped so hard around the paintbrush it's as if squeezing it is the only thing grounding him, keeping him tethered to this earth.

"Peeta?" she says, tentatively, lightly touching his arm. She's learned that quiet gestures and words work best when he's in the throes of an episode.

He snaps his head towards her then, his pupils dilated. He stares at her for a long moment, breath coming unnaturally hard.

"Peeta," she says again, her voice filled with all the tender things she still does not have the words to say.

His breathing slows as he gradually comes back to himself. "Katniss," he says, clearly just now realizing she is with him.

Only then, when she is confident that the worst of the episode is behind him, does she risk a glance at the painting. And suddenly, the scene she walked in on makes perfect sense.

She sees two boys, one taller than the other, with Peeta's blue eyes and tousled blonde curls.

Peeta is painting his brothers.

* * *

They don't speak again for several hours.

At dinner she finally works up the courage to ask.

"Tell me about them?" she says quietly, fork pushing around the same single bite of mashed potato in circles around her plate.

Because she doesn't know anything about his brothers. Not really. There was never a chance for her to _get_ to know them. They didn't move into Peeta's Victors' Village house with him after the first Games. And then after the Quell…

Katniss thinks fleetingly of Prim, then, how important her sister was – _is_ – to her. Her heart clenches.

Peeta abruptly gets up from the table and leaves the room without a word.

* * *

Later, they are in her bed together, as they have been every night for the past two weeks. Katniss curls up against him in the way that is both brand new but also shockingly familiar.

She has just started smoothing back the front fringe of his hair in the way that he likes when Peeta speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Rye was the practical joker," he begins, closing his eyes. She stops the movement of her hand without intending to, surprised in spite of herself at Peeta's decision to share this with her.

He opens his eyes and glances at her. She takes it as an unspoken request to keep caressing him. And so she resumes.

"I guess with a home life like ours one of us had to be," he continues. He gives a small, mirthless laugh. "He liked to tease us but he was never mean. He just… always seemed to know when we needed cheering up." He pauses. "He was good at it."

Suddenly, she needs to let Peeta know that her brothers were real to her, too, even though she didn't know them. "Rye liked to wrestle," she tells him. She knows he already knows that, but she also knows he needs to hear her say it. "And he was _good_ at it. He was the only one who could beat you at school," she says, fondly.

Peeta chuckles again. She can see a blush rising on his cheeks even though her bedroom is dark. "Yeah. Well. I should have _won_ that championship." He pauses. "I was able to pin him, just like that," he snaps his fingers, "every single time we practiced together at home."

He turns to look at Katniss then and tentatively reaches out to caress her cheek. This is new to them too, this gesture, but she closes her eyes, tries to lose herself in the feeling, leans into his touch. "But a certain Seam girl walked into the gymnasium right in the middle of that final bout. And I got so damn flustered Rye was able to make quick work of me."

Katniss' eyes fly open. He is giving her a sheepish smile.

She hadn't about known that. "Oh," she says, lamely. She doesn't know what else to say.

If Peeta notices her surprise he doesn't acknowledge it. "Rye gave me hell about that for weeks. Never stopped giving me hell about it, really." He laughs a little. "I deserved it of course. It _was_ pretty pathetic. And actually, I was happy he won. He was able to parlay his victory into extra trips to the slagheap with girls who are impressed by things like wrestling championships."

Now it is Katniss' turn to smile. One thing she _had_ always known about Rye was that he had been one of District 12's most notorious Lotharios.

"Rye and I didn't have much in common," he muses, as if responding to Katniss' unspoken thought. "Not really. But he loved me, I think," Peeta says, wistfully. "They both did."

The room is quiet then for a long moment. She continues to brush her fingertips against his forehead, against the front of his hair, gently. She hopes the gesture soothes him, the way the feeling of his arms around her in the night soothes her when her pain is worst. She knows how painful this must be for him – not just talking about his brothers, but also the process of sifting through shiny memories and separating them from what is real.

"Bran," Peeta continues, eventually. "Bran was the oldest. Well. You know that already." Peeta stops. Takes a deep breath. Katniss thinks she can detect a slight tremor running through him now. She tenses slightly, wondering if he might be on the cusp of another episode.

"Bran was the only person in my family who… who… during the time with me, in that room right before the first Games…" he pauses, takes another deep breath. The tremor in his body is unmistakable now. "Bran was the only one who told me that he… that he thought I could win…"

And then Peeta begins to sob. Huge, body-wracking sobs that shake the entire bed. Never – not during the Games, not in Thirteen when his mind was lost, not in the months since they have been home – has Katniss seen Peeta like this before. He is beside himself. He has lost himself.

Katniss doesn't know if she has the right, but before she can stop herself she gives in to the sudden urge to wrap her body around Peeta as tightly as she can. It's the only thing she can think of to do. And he lets her gather him up. He sobs into the front of her nightdress for a long time, soaking it to the skin with his tears. He babbles and moans incoherently as she _shh's_ him and says all the reassuring things in his ear that she can think of to say.

He eventually returns to himself. But neither of them move. She remains wrapped around him like a protective cocoon, his face still pressed tightly into the top of her ribcage.

"Can I tell you the rest tomorrow?" he asks her eventually, his voice shaky, weak. "I think… I think I need to sleep now."

She looks down at him and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. Another first. He looks up at her in wonder and gratitude.

"I would like that," she whispers to him.

They fall asleep wrapped tightly in each others' arms.


End file.
